the photography:making jam is so awesome. this is the second time we’ve ventured into the realm of doing things “like grandma” and after going two for two (the first being an awesome batch of applesauce in the fall of 2005), i think we might just go ahead and start marketing our jam, canning, and apple sauce services as Merritt’s World Famous. it definitely has a nice ring to it.

with a bun in the oven (well, technically, my wife’s oven), i have been reminiscing more and more about the days of yore when my brother and i were little munchkins and the things my own mother offered up to us as alternatives to playing video games (in all honesty, she did this because we didn’t own a video game console). as kids we did a lot in the kitchen. we were always spending hours making our own play-doh, baking cookies, making brownies, canning jelly, smushing apples into apple sauce, etc. as i approach my own impending fatherhood, these activities seem excitedly and amazingly eminent.

in many ways, i am amazed at how crafty i have become in my young adult years. as a kid, i never thought that years later i would be appreciating the skills my parents taught us (my brother and i) in that kitchen. it just seems natural now that i make lamps for fun and that i can dismantle a computer in no time flat. i think my wife is psyched i never learned how to rebuild a car engine.

the weird part is just after i wrote the last paragraph (^^^^ above ^^^^), i went outside to help fix my friend’s ’81 Corvette. we installed a new headlamp. it took 10 minutes. that stuff feels pretty good. now if only i can pass it on to the next generation… i think my wife might kill me if the kid starts taking apart the lawnmower with a screwdriver.

photos are from south eastern michigan and from our kitchen in chicago. we (my parents and the wifey and i) spent the day picking raspberries and buying blueberries in the hopes of making lots and lots of jam. and we did. the blood of the fruit was on our hands that day and to top it all off, i bought new kicks at the outlets. it was awesome.

the music:i’m pretty sure that billy corgan is a dick. i have never met him. but i know his story: everyone who has ever played in a band with him has hated him. now, don’t get me wrong, this could be said about a lot of rock’n’rollers but with billy it seems like his genius is what draws people to him and it is his cockiness and controlling nature that push people away. the only interaction i have ever had with the man (other than standing 400 people deep in the audience at one of his shows) is when he sped by me in his lamborghini in the wicker park neighborhood in chicago. he just looked smug. and rich.

but oh my god this song is so good. i mean saturday-morning-driving-to-wisconsin-to-buy-spotted-cow-beer-because-they-don’t-sell-it-in-illinois-super-sweet-awesome-being-pumped-out-of-your-corvette’s-speakers good.